


The Pierrot's High

by orphan_account



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe, Anal, Angst, Attempted Murder, Blood and Gore, Different Nen Abilities, Eventual Smut, Explicit Language, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gay Character(s), Gon is like 18, Injury, M/M, Minor Character Death, Murder, POV Third Person, Platonic Cuddling, Sex, Slow Burn, Smut, Tags May Change, Violence, Weapons, dubcon elements, like their surroundings are futuristic but thas kinda it lol, pleasure and pain, unfinished work
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:02:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 17,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25392820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: "Bravo." Rosy lips purr, eyes like melted gold staring at both bodies, hands ringing in applause."The Pierrot's High, a notorious luxury casino and home to infamous faces, a slaughterhouse of gangs and affairs. Gon has no idea what he's getting himself into.( TW; quite a bit of gore. I mean a lot. Whoops. )*currently working on another fic called 'Lucid Ink' so feel free to check that out :) *
Relationships: Gon Freecs/Hisoka
Comments: 6
Kudos: 24





	1. New Faces

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at fanfiction haha, please tell if anything is off!  
> \------------------------------------------------------------  
> Italics mean thoughts;  
> Apostrophes (') surrounding italics mean written/read text, or a name to a place;  
> Bold lettering and underlining emphasizes voice.  
> \------------------------------------------------------------  
> *Some characters have different Nen abilities*

The velvet stained envelope sleeps on Gon's desk. As if the letter were a sleeping tiger, or a landmine, Gon sat still, holding his breath. It had been so little time since he submit his application to _'The Pierrot's High'_ , a well-known bar, wishing to fill in the role of security. Gon had only finished high school, but had a promising future as his ability made him nearly as high as a god. Now, our tense teenager makes a move. With a shaky hand, he reaches for the letter and slips a nail, wedging it open. An odd smoke arises from the newly opened letter, hints of cranberry and coins. _Please say yes, please say yes.._ Gon closes his eyes and crosses his fingers, wishing for the best. He takes a quaking hand and pinches the corner, pulling the beige-tinted paper out. It looked ancient, yet it had only been a week or two since Gon's application. 

' _Mr. Freecs,_

_We are honored to have such a hunter of your ranking join our business, and at such a ripe age as well. Below are a list of previously mentioned terms regarding the position you have filled. Please look it over once again, and decide whether or not you would like to join our establishment.'_

Gon had scored his hunter's license at the early age of twelve, scoring as one of the earliest among other names. Below that column of text, a list as long as the eye could see stretched down onto the page. Let's be real, nobody ever reads the terms. 

_'Following the said terms, if you wish to accept the job, please sign your name below. This is your last chance to turn back. Please consider carefully.'_

Gon rolled his eyes, _To hell with it. If I turn this down_ , _only god knows what kind of job I'll be stuck with._ Gon messily scribbled his signature just hovering above said line with black pen, and strangely enough, the paper caught on fire. No nearby flame, barely any light except for the late noon rays shining through his blinds. 

"Shit! What the fuck?!" Gon hastily squealed, dropping the paper on his desk after feeling the icy heat. The flames screamed wickedly, louder than any other crackling he's ever heard on long nights camping in the distant forests. The paper burnt rather quickly, crumpling into unusually red flame before completely disappearing. Mind, these events had only happened with the span of less than five seconds."What the hell was that..?" He breathed, careful not to concern Aunt Mito with his cussing. She hated that. Only a moment after, a loud dinging sound coursed through the building. Gon nearly fell out of his seat, rushing downstairs and answering the door. Nobody was there, but a black box neatly held together with a rich, silky string. 

"Who was that?" Mito called from the kitchen, preparing supper. "Delivery. Did you order anything?" Gon called back, inspecting the plain box, the shining silk bow glistening in the late daylight. The box was as big as a shoebox, but more squared. "Not that I can recall, address?" "No, it's a plain box." He shook his head, though it was clear nobody was watching him. "You can take it then, but be careful. Those kids often hide dead carcasses on people's lawns, huh? Could be one of those. Be careful." Gon only responded with a simple "Kayy!"

He padded up the smooth marble stairs and slid his hand on the glass railing, back to his room. Unlike others his age, he maintained that playful childlike wonder while still holding his ground as an early adult. Dropping into his chair, he hastily pulled the ribbon off, not mindful of the delicate craftsmanship. The box fell open on all sides, revealing yet another letter.

_'Dear Mr. Freecs,_

_We are nothing but ecstatic to have such a hunter like you join our establishment! Attached are two things; One being your work suit, you will be required to wear it during work hours that you are on site. The only thing you are required to bring is a pair of shoes, preferably heeled as our clients have grown fond, but anything is acceptable as long as it doesn't grab attention. You are welcome to adjust the clothing according to your fighting style. You will be given extras depending on size adjustment. This is only your first suit, as class is based upon dressage. You are currently third class security, the lowest. You may rank up, depending on performance with clients, demonstration of strength, and time working with our establishment. This will also shallowly affect how you are treated, but minimally. Don't let it go to your head. +:)_

_Secondly attached, a work cell. Use this to contact your fellow colleagues, or even myself if so necessary. Replacements come, but with changes to your wage for that month._

_The rest will be explained, your first day is on the 20th. Come prepared. You know where to go. +:)_

_\- Chrollo Lucilfer, Founder of The Pierrot's High.'_

The 20th.. Of which month? It couldn't possibly be this month, that would mean in just two days. Gon let out a frustrated sigh, _Maybe I should've read the terms._

Gon dug into the mound, pulling out a long pair of formal, yet high-waisted slacks, a dress shirt, and a black vest to go along. Nothing over the top, but rather plain. Unacceptable to Gon's terms. Having limited but enough experience in sewing due to his frenzied aunt, he quickly snipped a majority of the leg, and half of the dress shirt. Like his older days, six years back when he was aiming for his hunter's license. Just him alone, toughing it out against the other competitors. He felt most comfortable in this format of an outfit, feeling like he could brave against the world. He felt good about this job. What was left of the bundle had been only a phone- or rather a small pane of glass. What the hell?

Gon had arrived early, not being able to sleep from re-dying his knee high boots to black. The opening hours being twelve at noon, closing at midnight. He stood alone, cars hovering by and others just bustling around. The building was intimidating, but not ugly- rather lavish, actually. Two tall pillars beside the entrance like an old museum, two headless angels carved to perfection, holding jars that seemed to leak endless water into the pool below. How would Gon even enter? The area surrounded by water. The area was rather dull in comparison to the glowing bar, it seemed over the top compared to the duller buildings nearby. A luxury hotel, to the left, a famous boutique to the right, and a rather fancy strip club across. Marble seemed to be a reoccurring theme with all local buildings, but none could compare to the extravagance of _'The Pierrot's High,"_ two tall doors encrusted with gold at the front, and an extended staircase leading towards. Gon couldn't seem to find the top of the building, as it traced the clouds. Soon enough, the door swung agape, a cat-eyed kid peeking out, 19 years old, at most. He seemed to have snow white skin, and static hair abuzz with small jolts. 

"Are you gonna come in..? Or just stand there like an idiot?" The kid half joked, disarming his predator-like appearance. Gon quickly nodded, but stopped in his tracks. "Uh... How do I get across?" He said, pointing to the water in front. "Just walk." The other huffed, clearly impatient with Gon's uncertainty. With that, Gon placed a foot onto the water, but it seemed he was floating above.

"Wait what the fUCK-" "Just walk, idiot." Cat-boy hissed, closing the door a little. Gon quickly made his way over the water, not wanting to think about the tweaks and twists what let him walk. Soon enough, Gon was over. "Took you long enough, follow." The thunder boy snapped, nearly dropping the door on the other boy.

"New?" The snowman turned a head to Gon. "Yep! What's your name?" Gon had shrugged off the sarcastic remarks of the other, knowing it was just joking play. "Killua. Zoldyck. Next to the head of the Zoldycks." "Hey! I think I've heard about you! Hunter license?" Gon realized that this was the boy next to his hunter record, earning his also at 12. Killua just sharply nodded, not willing to carry the conversation further. Kil led him past a registration booth parked at the front, and into the doors behind. There, a grand lounge was waiting. Chairs and sofas that looked like they melted to the touch, tall TVs and slot machines lined up by the sides. The room was dark, though LEDs buried in the floor lighted up most of what was to see. 

"This is only the first floor, a lounge," Gon was too busy marveling in the Vegas beauty of the scenery, "I'm sure you've heard of Heaven's Arena. Heart of Yorknew, and not even far from here. Home to the greatest fighters ever..." Killua's eyes sparkled, "And to a lot of us here, too. I'll introduce you once we get there. Back to the topic at hand, this place works like Heaven's Arena. The more you make a name here, the higher you get to go and the nastier you get to play." Kil's eyes glinted with cruelty, as it was purely in his blood. "Play? I thought this was just a bar-" Cat boy cut him off. "Oh it is, but it's so much more. Gambling, I'm sure you know. The higher you get, the more riskier you're forced to play, I even heard someone bet their life on the 44th floor!" He looked around and whispered, "But they ended up losing!" He giggled, yet Gon just saw darkness in this. 

"Anyways! This place has maybe.. what? 50 accessible floors? To the public, of course. We, the employees, can even live here! Pierrot's actually has 100 floors and counting, but nobody knows beyond the 90th." Gon's mind just had to claw at this mystery, maybe through his experience here, he could dig up the answer. The boys reached an elevator, numbers running 2 through 50. Killua's claw poked at 50, and the elevator started zooming up. Gon nearly crumpled at the speeds they were going, but Kil remained like a statue. "You'll get used to it." 

The doors opened to the 50th floor, much more lavish than the first, if that was even possible. Pool tables and roulette wheels, blackjack tables and baccarat, as far as the eye could see. Kil was the first to step out, grabbing Gon's arm. A keypad rested on a nearby wall, Killua tapping in some sort of code. Another elevator opened, neighbor to the one they had left. Both stepped in, and Kil pressed button 51. Faster than the first, the elevator whirred. Ding!

Music was playing, and others were sprinkled around the room. Gon noticed the status-clothing rule immediately. Some black vests were hemmed with silver, and some with gold. This room felt similar to the last, gambling machines here and there, plus the occasional bar. It was busy, though there might've only been around 20 others there. A woman was sitting on a piano, singing her heart out. She wore a rather showy outfit, casing her breasts with a businesslike suit. The man playing, with blonde slicked back hair and a brow-less, dooming stare. Another, playing darts. His throws so strong, he split another in two. His eyes turned to the bar, where a rather lanky man played with bottles. He cast a portal under a bottle, and it jumped out of another and into his hand. He seemed masterful, despite his young looks, though the round, dark glasses didn't really fit. And at the far back, a lone man with fiery hair, porcelain skin, and amber eyes, building a card tower. His and Gon's eyes only locked for a moment, yet it sent shivers down his spine.

Nobody else seemed to pay attention to the two, as they were busy in their own types of paradise. Just as Gon was about to ask Killua what to do, a voice rang out from the ceiling. A womans. Everyone in their own world froze, this was important.

"Gon Freecs, please report to Lucilfer's office. Gon Freecs?" Her voice rang out, without much enthusiasm. Everyone turned to look at Kil and Gon, one of them gasping loudly. "NEW KIIID!" A man with a high ponytail shouted, a drooping nose and tired eyes. Kil pushed him into the elevator. "Go, 80th." And the doors shut. 80 was at the very top, and it even took Gon to get on his very tippy toes. The elevator started shooting upwards, and not even a minute later, the door opened with a chime. 

There, sat a man. Rather handsome, actually, with big dark eyes and slicked back hair, sitting behind a desk surrounded by books. He smiled warmly.

"Gon Freecs," He beamed, "Have a seat."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woowwwww suspense suspense :oo


	2. Commit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gon is a dumb bitch lol- oh and he gets tested.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first attempt at fanfiction haha, please tell if anything is off!  
> \------------------------------------------------------------  
> Italics mean thoughts;  
> Apostrophes (') surrounding italics mean written/read text, or a name to a place;  
> Bold lettering and underlining emphasizes voice.  
> \------------------------------------------------------------  
> *Some characters have different Nen abilities*

Chrollo pinched the bridge of his brows and gave a light sigh. As a man in control of his surroundings, he wouldn't let a clumsy teen ruin today. Gon just stared at his forehead tattoo, scrunching when Chrollo angered. _What is that? A compass?_

"Why don't we.. clarify this?" He exhaled sharply, "So. You didn't read the terms. The ones that literally control your life here." His teeth gritting, fists slowly but surely squeezing tighter, even until his knuckles turned white, clearly outlined. "I thought it would just be classic light work! Like injury and stuff!" Gon bargained, wishing to smooth out his already shitty reputation. If it were an object, it would be a cracking sandcastle, falling apart with every heated minute.

"I can't do anything for you, you're stuck with this job. Let me.. just read off of the script for a moment." He tried his best not completely losing his shit over this boy, but god was he close. "Term #2," with a shaky breath, "You are to never speak of the terms regarding your application to _'The Pierrot's High,'_ let it be outsiders or family. Clear?" Gon only nodded. Another shaky breath, "Term #40; with the job of client protection, injury and death are under the employee. _'The Pierrot's High'_ holds all responsibility except for harm done to the employee." He stared at Gon for a response, which he sure got.

"C-Client protection? What the hell do you mean?" Gon stammered, dumbfounded.

Chrollo subtly rolled his eyes, " **It means you protect our customers.** Simple enough?" Gon only nodded, hesitantly. "Term #53; death of the client is under the employee. That means, if you're not strong enough to protect from, say, an attack, and they are harmed or killed, that will be on yourself." Gon hated responsibility, but this wasn't the worst. He was given a place to stay, and care for his strength, good enough.

"Why do the clients get hurt so much?" Gon had to spit out, a tone near humor.

"Gangs, mobs, I won't get into it. This place is a **slaughterhouse** to those under certain names. Gotta watch your back, kid." _What the fuck? What kind of bar lets gangs in? These people are maniacs._ Gon's head hurt, the toll of responsibility catching on.

"Term #60;" he began, "the last term," under his breath, "The employee has the right to resign only under the following; serious injury, 1+ years in service, loss of ability, dramatic weakening of ability, or new recruits, stronger than the last. Then, you'll be fired by us." The boy couldn't wrap his head around so much, and Chrollo could clearly see that.

Dropping a hand onto the table, Chrollo only groaned. Inhaling sharply, "To sum it up, you're responsible for your and your client's health. You can only leave if you can't perform anymore, or if we find someone better. Done?" He was completely done with this kid, being the most frustrating one to hire aside from that horny clown, over-sexualizing literally every word that got past his lips.

Finally, we're done. "Yeah, got it." Gon hopped off of his chair, ready to get the fuck out of that room. 

"Oh, one more thing. Please try to dispose of your victims neatly. Begging." He sighed, only receiving a nod with a response, and leaving. "He better."

The lavish doors to a gambler's heaven unlocked, a number of clients already checking in. Gon hadn't been given time to chat and get to know the others, as they were told to sit quietly until their names were announced from the front desk. Pakunoda, Leorio, Feitan. Gon already making sure to memorize their names. Shizuku, Shalnark, Killua. Gon waved to his friend as he left the waiting room, many faces still hung around. Illumi, Biscuit, Youpi. A large, red man practically made the building tremble with each step, _Gotta steer clear of that guy._ Pitou, Nobunaga, Hisoka. His eyes caught Pitou, whose tail dangled in front of his face a little too long.

"Good luck, new kid." He coyly grinned, Gon sensing a twinge of mockery in Pitou's voice. Then, the one from before stopped by Gon. Golden eyes. Staring what felt like holes into Gon's eyes with a stoic face, he only smirked for a moment, letting out a *hm~* before leaving. _The hell..?_ Gon's cheeks got a bit rosy, _Is there something on my face?_

Meruem, Gon. The boy's face lit up, finally being called. He jogged out, eager. A pink haired woman sat in the front. "Gon, you'll be in charge of Kurapika for tonight." She smiled, or at least tried to. A blond man with black eyes stood in front, wearing a formal black suit. He only looked at Gon for a moment, no approval or disapproval leaking out. She then leaned in, whispering, "Careful, he's a big name." And sent Gon off, he could only wonder. He followed the blond into the elevator, where he pushed the 50th button. _Wow, he really is a big name. Wonder what he needs all that money for._ As Kurapika dropped his hand from the button, Gon heard a slight jingling noise. He only peeked to see what seemed like silver rings on all five of his fingers, connected by chain that went up his arm.

"Have something to say?" Kura let out, easily noticing his peeking. Gon only looked away, "No, sir." 

Kurapika's attention felt strange, like he was going to be instantly killed, or hugged. There was no in between. The loud sound of the elevator disrupted Gon's thoughts, and followed Kurapika out into the already busy floor. Too young to understand, he only followed the other to what seemed like a blackjack table, like a lost puppy. Minutes morphed into hours, Kurapika remained stone faced as he won again and again. _He doesn't seem like the greedy type.. Then what is he after?_ The clock sang 7 in the evening, Kurapika now lounging at the bar with a pound or two of chips to his name.

"I've been wondering-" Gon paused, waiting for a go-ahead. Kura slightly nodded, "What do you need all these chips for?" The blond was caught off guard. Out of nowhere, a large man elbowed Kurapika, hard, making him jolt forwards and into his drink. "Kurta." The man spat and chuckled, walking off, Pitou following the man with a judgy glare trained on Gon. _Have I heard that word before..?_

Kurapika, clearly upset but not entirely harmed stared at him. "That explains enough." His eyes glowing a soft red, while Gon realized what just had happened and was frantically asking for napkins. Gon still didn't quite get the gist, but he'd ask later. Kurapika stood up, after being dried off, and headed towards a roulette table, surrounded by lots of chanting clients, and a few fellow guards resting on the nearby wall. Gon joined the waiting guards, a familiar face nearby.

"Killua!" 

"Gon! How's your first night treating you?"

"Honestly," Gon sighed, "Could be better. Someone knocked my guy into his drink. Saying "kurta" or something." he shrugged, looking back at his client whose eyes remained on the bouncing ball, and the spinning wheel.

"Kurta?! You mean that blond one there?" Gon nodded in response, not having to open his mouth. "Shiiiiiiiiiiiit, dude. Got yourself a target." Kil prolonged the first word, only making his friend dig deeper into curiosity. "Tell ya later. Might wanna watch him." Gon grew confused, brows scrunching,

"What do you mean by that?" His voice carpeted by a loud clatter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think it's violence time !! probably for the next ep lol


	3. Blood! At the Casino

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW; gore+blood, attempted murder, murder, and negativity towards kurapika (racism to the kurta clan)  
> someone dies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first attempt at fanfiction haha, please tell if anything is off!  
> \------------------------------------------------------------  
> Italics mean thoughts;  
> Apostrophes (') surrounding italics mean written/read text, or a name to a place;  
> Bold lettering and underlining emphasizes voice.  
> \------------------------------------------------------------  
> *Some characters have different Nen abilities* (Remember this is an AU :))

There stood Gon's client, bent against the table, back down. Wrestling against the man from before, holding a broken bottle. _Shit, shit shit shit shit shit shit!_ "Go to hell, fucking Kurta!" He heard, that was the last straw as his ability then leaked through. 

"Gon? Gon? Where the fuck are you?" Kil shouted among the commotion, not able to spot his friend anywhere near himself or his client. He felt a cold shiver up his spine, like something crawling down his back. Gon was nowhere to be seen. He couldn't move from his spot, his client too close. He tugged his client's arm, eager to get her away, "Neon, let's go." He muttered, the blue haired girl only trailing behind.

Gon was practically invisible. Unseen by anyone else as the sudden violence grabbed everyone else's attention. The Kurta man, still wrestling against his attacker, waiting on pins and needles. _Shit, where the hell-_ Kura's attention drifted to the bottle no longer inches away from his eyes. His attacker had been launched across the room, Gon delivering a swift, hard kick to his stomach. The sloppy assassin laid against the far wall, struggling to recover. Pitou's eyes darted around, _Where is that little shit..?_ Gon came back. Himself fading into view, kneeling with a foot on the other's stomach. His eyes glew a faint white, holding a hand out to where icy needles appeared. 

"You **racist** fucking shitbag-" Gon growled, sending a needle into the man's eye, letting him scream out. Pitou, nearly across the room from Gon, realized the sound and leapt to the other side, finding his client pinned down by the new kid. Blood soon leaked out of the man's eye, the hot warmth melting the needles. Holding his eye, the shitbag found Pitou,

"The fuck are you doing you dumb cat bitch?" His voice faltering and turning to a scream, "KILL HIM!" Pointing a stern finger towards Gon, who quickly faded into the air around. Gon couldn't really turn invisible, no. He was masked by the reflection of tiny water droplets, directing light in ways which made himself unseen. Of course it had taken him years to practice this, yet they had been well spent, allowing the teen to master this. Though, he could still get hit, sniffed out, or his mask could even be seen through by the keenest. But not tonight. It was just a matter of pure luck that Pitou had been able to land a hard hit on Gon with his own tail, stiff like iron.

"There." Pitou hissed, able to now track the other's movements. He launched out again, scratching Gon's thigh deeply. The blood was now too easy to sniff out. _Without a client, would Pitou have a purpose..?_ Gon's brain finally started working, dashing towards the man still holding his bloody eye. Gon still had amazing strength and speed despite losing his ability to mask himself, and got to the shitbag in no time. Gon landed a good, hard kick on the man's throat, making him instantly wheeze and cough out a generous amount of blood. The blond only watched. Given special instructions from Machi, at the front desk, to remain still, to not do a thing and act like a regular person. _I could've easily ended that bitch by now.. But Chrollo has a point. I want to see how far this boy will go._

Gon had only gotten two more hits before Pitou landed a punch to his cheek, sending him stumbling back instead of soaring into the wall, parallel to theirs. Pitou didn't care about the fucker lying on the ground, wheezing blood. This was for himself. Doctor Blythe easily could've patched the pathetic whelp on the floor by now, but he'd rather sate himself before his client. Pitou launched towards the blood-tainted kid, Gon darting towards Pitou too, but quickly changed direction and headed for the client. Laying back to the floor, wheezing but not dead, the assaulter couldn't move a muscle. Gon would always preserve life, he loved it as his own, but filthy people like the one before him didn't deserve it. One swift motion is all it took. Gon took each of the man's jaws in one hand, and pulled apart. Sending a wave of blood spray about the room. By now, most clients had been escorted out, leaving only himself, Pitou, Kurapika, and a body. The blood continued spraying, until it got calmer, and calmer. Pitou now had no excuse to launch back at the killer. _Aw shit, Chrollo's gonna kill me. How hard is it to get blood off of a wall?_

Pitou now stood still, eyes glued to the fleshy, sopping mess before him. The man was no longer identifiable, drowning in his own blood. Gon was unfazed, having to do this prior to today, with Heaven's Arena's occasional deathmatches. It had been long since then, leaving Gon's known name "Tsunami" in the dirt, the only thing worrying the boy now? The blood on his new clothes. Gon hadn't packed, as he had no idea about living in Pierrot's, so coming home to Mito reeking with another's blood was a huge no.

Gon turned to his client, still standing by the roulette table. His face was slightly turned up. A little proud, perhaps. No, Gon knew he was very. Even before his hunter's license, he had a good skill of reading through people, no matter how stoic their face, Gon was perceptive. The clock crept dangerously near closing time, which told Gon to escort his client out. Pitou had finally peeled his eyes away, frustrated. He didn't give a shit about the guy laying limp on the ground, but frustrated to how a kid could best him. Pitou was now out of service, for a week. To Chrollo's rules, those who couldn't protect were incapable, and would be given less meaningful clients after their forced hiatus.

Down in the lobby, stood lines of clients and their guards, completely naive to the fact that someone had been murdered in cold blood a floor or two above them. Gon was forced to wait in the room he was first in, before being assigned clients. The deaths and murders in _'The Pierrot's High'_ went completely untold of, not wanting to make a dirty word out of the beloved sin-house, though every other casual to Pierrot's already knew. Besides that, Gon reeked of blood, only his backside clean from the kill. Another face was left in the room. He was nearly just as bloody, but he seemed content with what had happened. He wore a loose crop top, two suits in the front in black. The customary dress shirt under that, yet sleeveless. His arms were hugged with black rings, from his toned biceps to his slim wrist. He wore loose, black pants that hugged his hips and his ankles, and a chain-like belt that hung in the front. Stiletto boots. Ridiculously high, but somehow, he suited them. And last, a golden heart earring, hanging by a row of golden beads which complimented his blazing red hair. His eyes were shut, body laid back and legs crossed. Humming, until he opened his eyes to see Gon. Honey eyes narrowing at the kid.

His eyes felt like lights, like lighthouses searching him up and down. A search, like police patting every inch of his body. The man's smile grew with every inch of blood he saw, then looked elsewhere. 

He muttered something, his voice quiet but growing high in excitement. Gon wasn't entirely sure what had just happened, but he did have a growing curiosity to the man who was back to humming, flipping through a stack of cards and making them fly like they were a part of him. A voice rang out, the clock hitting 12. 

"Hisoka Morow, please report to Lucilfer's office. Hisoka Morow?" 

_Hisoka. What a strange name._ The man in the room got up, balancing on high heels, and to the door, but cast one more peek at Gon. _That blood looks gorgeous on you, darling._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we get a lil more hisoka action from here :)


	4. New Surroundings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gon learns about Kurapika, and settles into Pierrot's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note;  
> -words like this are just weird sounds and not words lol-

" **Nine** times, Hisoka. NINE!" Chrollo is just moments away from smashing his own head into the table. Hisoka sits across, proud. "What the fuck is **this**?!" Chrollo swivels his laptop around, a replay of Hisoka's "fight." Hisoka just stares calmly, enjoying the show. Chrollo's hair was now held up by a messy bandanna, covering his mark.

The laptop shows the redhead standing in front of a rather lanky woman, pointing a machete at him, only a foot away. Moments later, and a card is thrown into her neck, spraying blood as Hisoka stands in it. The footage doesn't show it, but Hisoka remembers licking the blood off of his top lip, watching the lady plummet to the ground after a few moments and savoring the tang of her blood, old riches and metal. A frustrated Chrollo swivels the laptop back to face himself.

"I've seen you do better! Remember the first time you got to dispatch someone? Not a single DROP of blood! Now you're showering in it, wHAT THE FUCKING SHIT?!" Chrollo is now holding his arms up, extremely fed up with the one in front of him. Hisoka just scoffs.

"Give me a _real_ fight, dear Chrollo. Give me someone that makes me taste my own blood," he enthuses, "Let me feel as if I'm only _seconds_ away from death, make them teach me my place." He hisses. "Or.. I'll just have to fight _you_.~" Hisoka leans forwards, making his chair tip and resting his elbow on the desk, chin on his fist. Hisoka knows he's going to lose to Chrollo, but his desperation heavily outweighs his boredom and lust for a challenge.

"Go find a challenge _outside_ Pierrot's, then. This isn't your **damn playground**." Chrollo hisses back, spitting out Hisoka's cue to leave. "Pervy fucking creep."

Unfamiliar faces bustled around, working at the blood in the walls. Hisoka only stopped by to see what his colleague had done, and was left a little exhilarated and intrigued by the boy. The body still lay there, bled out. An empty hole in his left eyeball, a crooked neck and a crushed rib or two. Hisoka was _very_ pleased with this. Of course, he made sure to savor the jaw, the bottom only hanging onto skin and muscle. The man's eyes were wide, _Panic._ _If only my lovers beyond the grave could make this face for me.._ Hisoka dreamt, eyes fluttering. He bothered not look at his own work, having tasted enough and a little displeased with the result.

Now Gon was sitting in front of Chrollo, the with same scrunched-up face like a crumpled piece of paper. "Look, kid. You did fine. Great, even." Chrollo could not give a single shit anymore, "Just.. - _u_ _ghhh_ \- don't take after that clown." Drawing a tear under his left eye. He was clearly tired, bags already digging their way under his eyes. "I envy you. Not having to worry about some card-slinging shitbag who showers in blood by the daily." Gon only grew confused by this. " _Back to the topic at hand,_ congrats, kid. You're an employee. _-woo.-"_ Chrollo flailed his arms in the air floppily, like an inflatable mascot in front of a car wash. "You can do whatever now, yano, get a floor in this place, chat around, sleep around, same thing." The once glorious founder of a gambling paradise was just reduced to a drunk-acting loser in less than 10 hours. 

"Mr. Lucilfer- I think I should just.. Go." Gon was eager to get away from the man, acting even stranger than Hisoka. Now Chrollo was just a limp mess on his desk, slumping down and resting his head in his arms. A lazy -Mmmh- sound in response. "I'll get a floor tomorrow. Goodbye!" Gon poured the last bit of patience with the man, and leaving as he slurred "Sixxxxty-twooOOoOooooo..."

Gon lugged a bag behind him, back to _'The Pierrot's High,'_ hoping to run into his new friend Killua and get some help with the luggage. Not quite. The man with the drooped nose and tired eyes skittered up to him, wearing a dim navy robe as he burst through the doors. _Oh, the weirdo who yelled at me last night._

"Hey, kid! Heard what 'ya did," he took a moment to grin at himself for making that dumb rhyme, "You and that Hizzogga- or whatever totallyyyy messed up Chrollo," Gon heaved his bag, trying to ignore the man pestering him like a loud mosquito. Gon couldn't move as fast as before, the deep wound left by his colleague screaming in pain with every step. Gon had only patched it up quickly, not wanting Mito to see the condition he was in.

"I could help you, yano." The mosquito man buzzed, hovering over Gon's shoulder. "I'll tell ya about the Kurta kid. From last night." He beckoned, catching Gon's attention. He threw a duffel bag at the mosquito man, pressing a button to the 50th floor. 

"Ever heard of scarlet eyes? Eyes that turn from brown to a pretty scarlet. An agitation or energy thing, I guess. That blondie's got it." Gon remembered watching Kurapika's eyes sizzle to a faint red, "They're hunted for. Everyoneee wants to get their grubby hands on those balls-" Nobu snickers childishly, "They pay real good for a pair. I mean like, reeaallllll good. Maybe a billion zeroes per eye." The elevator dinged, and Nobu punched in the keypad, another elevator dinging. He pressed the 62nd button, and continued.

"They say they're good to get fresh. Right away. Only like, 36 pairs exist, maybe. That blond guy, last one of them. Tragic." Gon felt heavy, not wanting to continue, "Word's been flying around, dude's tryna get all of them back. I mean, I don't get it. What're you gonna do with all those -snort- balls?" The elevator stopped, chiming at Gon's floor. A narrow hall led to a door, already unlocked. Still uninvited, Nobunaga let himself in. 

"This has got me wondering, why doesn't he just sleep around? Right? Pass his genes or whateve-" Gon cut Nobu off, "thANK YOU THAT'S ENOUGH GOODBYE!" Gon stole his duffel bag back, pushing him out the door. _Poor Kurapika.._ Gon felt heavy.

With time to spare before work hours, Gon let himself wander the grounds after hastily unpacking. Only 30 floors were open to staff's quarters, leaving Gon with 10 to explore. He wondered where Kil's floor was, but it'd seem weird to check everyone's. The first alien floor he visited, a gym. Equipment that Gon couldn't even name, music bumping to the max. Killua was there too, jabbing at a punching bag. 

"Kil!"

"Oh, hey Gon. Settling in alright?" Killua wiped his head with a nearby towel.

"Yeah, it's pretty nice here. 62nd floor, though. What a view." Killua gritted his teeth,

"Oh yeesh." 

"What?" 

"..Nevermind." Killua muttered, looking away. Poor Gon had a room just below Hisoka's, and Killua caught on pretty quick with the fact that Gon was Hisoka's new interest. The two chatted for only a minute longer before Kil returned to beating the shit out of a sand bag. _Crap! I still don't know how this stupid thing works.._ Gon held up the "phone", feeling alien. The next floor was a sort of dining room, a large showy kitchen in the back with chefs tossing and stirring viciously. All empty. The next floor, a pool. Shizuku swimming laps while Shalnark, the dart player, lounged. Playing on some sort of gameboy. He looked techy.

"Oi, Shalnark!" Gon waved out, jogging towards him.

"What's up?" Shal put down his game and lowered his sunglasses.

"I kinda.. don't really know how to work this thing..." Gon mumbled out, holding it to Shalnark.

"Oh, just tap it twice. Like this," Shalnark held his own out, tapping twice on the screen. The screen lit up, only having two apps on the front. A contact list, and a messaging system. "Boring."

"Well, it _is_ for work. Thanks!" Gon waves as he goes to explore the rest of the floors. The building seemed way too extravagant to just be some silly casino. An infirmary, a room lined with pool tables, Pakunoda and Leorio playing against each other. A sauna, empty. An arena, strangely enough. Four rings in each corner, Illumi and Feitan after each other's throats. A track room, Pitou racing back and forth with Youpi. A room lined with wine bottles on the walls, like a bartender's paradise. The last one, a serene library. Other faces he had yet to memorize just lounging around.

Weekdays were slow for the casino, maybe only three valuable regulars to guard. The clock struck 12, and Pierrot's doors opened. Illumi, and Shizuku's names were announced, and a few others for patrol. The rest were free to wander. Gon headed for the arena, wishing to study up on his new neighbors. Feitan was now dueling against Nobunaga, both slashing at the other with katanas. Feitan managed to slice Nobu's shoulder, leaving a dripping trail. Killua was there too, drawing attention to himself with big sparks of cold, blue electricity. His eyes glew, and his hair stood up, looking a little like Gon himself. Pakunoda was busy shooting at Kil, but was easily outmatched with Kil's speed. Gon made a mental note not to mess with Killua. Pakunoda seemed normal, she was only using plain pistols.

This was going to take a while. He'd rather just train at the gym, until his name was called over the speakers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more violence next chap, probably


	5. Another One Bites the Dust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gon fights another, more injured than the last. some hisogon fluff :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW! Lotsa blood and gore

Today, Gon is assigned to a small boy. With a bob and a mark on his lip, just there to enjoy the scenery and try his luck. He's very reserved, throughout the evening, only asking how to do small things like play a game or order a drink. He's clearly underage, but none of the bartenders seem to mind. He must have some sort of connection. A couple of others offer him things like weed, meth, even coke. He's known. Even more than the blond man from less than a day ago. Gon catches on. Kalluto. He's tried a few light drinks, but his young self can't handle a lot. He's sitting at a slot machine, pulling the lever again and again, staring at the spinning and flashing lights, clearly off his rocker.

A hard, cracking sound, and the machine is destroyed. Crushed. A fist lay on top. Tanned, toned skin, defined with maybe even ages of hard work. Connected to a lightly fuzzed man, taller than anyone's ever seen, likely 5 times the size of Kalluto. The feminine child only stares at the machine, crippled with one punch and the delightful wheels flattened like pancakes.

"Zoldyck." He hisses, bearing his large fangs. _What a name I'd make for myself,_ the wolfman grinned, _Uvo,_ _the one who took the blood of a Zoldyck._ He grins, taking a liking to the title.

"The machine.." Kalluto unmoving. He doesn't seem to be aware of the threat looming overhead. Gon's done this a million times, bending the moisture in the air, concealing himself. Kalluto's readying some paper, Uvogin rolling his eyes. _What can a **kid** even do with some paper?_ He's about to wind up for another swing, before Kalluto can bat his fan, yet Gon beats him to the chase.

Jumping up from behind him, delivering a clean hit to the side of his jaw. The monster only moves a couple inches, but still dazed and unstable after the hit. Kalluto quickly swings his fan, sending hundreds of cranes into the air, slicing at Uvo's tough skin. It only grazes, creating a pink scratch, and a drop of blood at most. The room is now empty, every bystander fleeing after Uvo's showy punch. 

Gon readies needles, and swings them at Uvo's face. Of course, they're caught. Others, do manage to pierce his skin, but only the surface, drawing little to no blood. Uvo's skin is tough and leathery, thick enough to stop a bullet. Gon swings one more time, attempting to push the needles further in with more. This will take too long. Kalluto swinging his fans, causing a hurricane of papercuts, but it's not enough. Gon gets cut, Uvo's strong senses able to kick in and sniff out the little blood among his own. Gon is constantly moving, sure to dodge, but he doesn't. Uvo knows where he's headed through ages of experience, and is able to send Gon flying into the far wall.

He's coughing blood. The wind knocked out of him, he's wheezing. His throat burns, it feels on fire. The wall is basically indented with his mark, his ears ringing from the forced impact. He isn't sure if any ribs are shattered, but the odds are in pain's favor. He can't hold up and conceal himself any longer. The taste of melted silver keeps flooding back, and he's forced to spit aside. Blood burns his throat even more, the irony kick beating the shit out of his throat. Uvo's still focused on the Zoldyck, but Kalluto isn't quite giving up. If Gon and Kalluto can't quite puncture him on the outside, maybe the inside. The moisture in Uvo's veins freezes, ice in the form of small pellets breaking open his veins. They pop like balloons, blood rushing out and wherever they can once the vein ruins. 

Uvo's eyes grow big, bloodshot. He's practically crying blood, coughing and spitting, even sneezing blood. Like a sprinkler, blood leaks out of every pore. Gon pushes Kalluto behind another slot machine, his client can't go soaked. Gon is still wheezing, but farther from death than Uvo, blood pouring out. Uvo still has a lot of blood, but a significant amount less. Gon has to do everything in his power, and rip Uvo's skin apart. The moisture viciously moving apart, his skin parting and letting even more blood pour out. He's screaming. Loud. His skin dropping like clothing. His skin is ripped from his body, only revealing a muscle-ridden bloodbath. 

Uvo grows significantly skinnier, having a bare minimum of blood in his system. It's too late to save himself now, finally collapsing from blood loss and anemia. Uvo is beyond repair, blood still leaking from his sensitive surface. Gon is panting, having to rip apart an 8 foot tall monster. He's fatigued, but far from dead. Gon falls onto his back, exhausted and thoroughly drained. His breathing is closer to normal, and his eyes shut. Passing out, as a dead Uvo lies in the middle of the room. Kalluto rushes to the elevator, jamming the button to the floor. He isn't safe there.

Through the commotion, none of the three had realized they had a spectator. 

" _Bravo._ " Rosy lips purr, eyes like melted gold staring at both bodies, hands ringing in applause. Dropping from a hanging ceiling light, stepping through the pool of blood. " _What a lovely shade of crimson._ " Hisoka admires the thin pool, then heads towards Gon's fainted body. _Would be a shame to leave such potential to waste._ Hisoka sighs, picking Gon up with obvious ease. Bridal-style.

The two head to the infirmary, dropping Gon into the care of the staff, though Hisoka doesn't leave. He sits near Gon's bed, once he's cleaned up. Legs crossed and chin to fist, elbow propped up on his knee. Gon's chest gently rises and falls, the wheezing a thing of the past. Luckily, his ribs were spared. Maybe a crack here and there, but Gon would surely heal quick. Hisoka brushed a strand of dark, unkempt hair behind Gon's ear, and had to just stop for a moment, subconsciously admitting that, well, Gon was good looking. Even more so with his hair down.

Gon's eyes finally fluttered open, dazed and confused. Unfamiliar lights buzzed above his bed, the thick smell of antiseptic lingering in the air like a painful, lasting kiss. Kil sat in the chair, Hisoka left long ago. 

"Gon!" The white haired Zoldyck noticed his friend come back to reality,

"Killua." Gon smiled weakly, a high squeak in his voice from the past hit. His head is wrapped in bandages, and he's breathing through a mask. "Thanks for -cough- bringing me over." Gon mustered. This, was entirely false, but Killua wouldn't allow his friend to get any closer to the starry magician, up in his own world. Kil only smiled, hating to lie through his teeth.

"Is Kalluto okay?" He breathed, "He's okay. He's safe and heading home now." Kil replied, "Don't force yourself to talk, kay? Just relax." Putting a hand on Gon's shoulder as the other nodded. Gon fell back asleep.

"Gon Freecs, please report to Lucilfer's office. Gon Freecs?" The familiar voice rang out. _Crap._ Gon was given the go ahead by staff, and rid the elevator up, stopping at Chrollo's office. Lucilfer knew the condition he was in, and went easy on the kid.

"You did great. Good thinking. Though I had to get Shizuku to handle the mess, we're all just glad that you're fine. You may be given the week to recover." Chrollo was back to his stable self, groomed hair and a warm smile, like the first time they had met. "From now on, I'll start contacting you via text or call, I'd hate to hassle forth both of us. It's 9 in the morning, go get something to eat." Chrollo watched Gon quietly stumble away, and disappear into the elevator. Gon hadn't checked his phone in a while, as he left it in his room. Instead of eating he'd rather go back to sleep, dragging his feet to his floor and room, free falling into his bed and checking his phone. 

Unexpectedly, his phone was flooded to the brim with "Get well soon!" and other basic generic comforts. One that did catch his eye though, a message from the tear faced jester. His thumb hovered over, for a moment, and gave in.

_'Bravo, Gon-kun. I'm rooting for you. ⭐^-^💧'_

And surprisingly enough, that put a smile on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this made up for the boring chapter :^) last chapter for now, i promise


	6. The Rose Bomber

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gon is heavily injured during a fight, and things get spicy. (not hisogon yet sorry :( )

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A line of stars like this  
> *****  
> means a time skip :)  
> \------------------------  
> TW: blood, some gore, upsetting homophobic language
> 
> also a little smut. just a little. teensy bit.

Gon awakens to the painful taste of blood and morning breath, the sharp hunger mixed with the soreness of his body not a good look. It's late in the evening, they're open for business. Gon manages to prop himself up after a few wobbly tries, dragging his feet to the bathroom with rust in his joints. It feels like ages since he's last gotten up. His vision is fuzzy, and he splashes his face with water before propping himself up with the sink. He's a mess. A paper-cut long and dragging against his right cheek, another on his neck. They hurt like hell, at least a few centimetres deep. It's patched up, of course, tied together with some silky glistening string, but he still feels the stinging deep and raw. His chest burns even more, but he doesn't dare even check. He knows his back is tainted with bruises, yellow and purple splattered all over his back. His head is wrapped in bandages, on top of his matted hair.

His stomach is purely begging for something to sate itself with, so Gon stumbles out and into the elevator, like a zombie. He feels dead. He'd rather be dead right now, it being too much to haul a stiff corpse through 90 floors. But his mind is too stubborn with itself, his head and stomach demanding food like a spoiled brat. He's almost crushed under the speed, but finally finds himself at the dining area, which really just looks more like a classy restaurant. I mean, everything literally screams restaurant. He just wants this night to end. Of course, he'll heal completely by the fourth day, but with age, patience doesn't always come. Gon feels eyes on him, that strange sixth sense everyone has. He's sitting at a table after ordering when he finds a little movement across and a little to the right. There, the devil waves with his resplendent, aureate eyes, chin resting on a hand with a stupid, gentle smirk spread across his face. Gon's blood runs cold, his fight or flight triggered by that tiny interaction.

*****

Fall nears, which means dropping temperatures and a noticeable rise in business. The fresh smell of maple and the flaming dance of scarlet-orange leaves in the wind. Gon is far beyond healed, and tonight he's ready to fight. He's responsible for a square man, broad and tanned with pale, shoulder length hair. A heavy smoker, and I mean, maybe a pack or two of cigarettes per day, but he doesn't hold a regular cigar. Instead, a pipe. Abnormally large, and definitely attention grabbing. He wears a strangely casual dress shirt with a loose tie, clear that he's had a long day, and dark shades. They go to the 39th floor, this guy is special. People don't usually get assigned guards until past the 45th floor. He's into blackjack and pool, he seems like a big gambler. Always letting out a hearty chuckle every time he wins, but his face is hard to read, especially behind those dark glasses. He indulges in a lot of drinking too, and is much chattier than the others Gon's been hired for. _This guy isn't going to make it past 50, I'm surprised he's still alive.._ All that drinking and smoking has **got** to be bad. His name is Morel, it sounds familiar but also distant. 

The alcoholic's hovering over a blackjack table, letting Gon rest against a wall. He seems to have friends, the same status as he sees Feitan, Shoot, Pakunoda, and Hisoka hovering nearby. He only glances at them for a moment, but Hisoka catches his eye. Gon catches Hisoka run his tongue over his top lip, or at least, thinks he does. Hisoka nudges his head in the direction of the blackjack table, just as an ear-splitting explosion rings out.

Gon's client yells out, stumbling back and holding his flaming shoulder. A scrawny blond with a showy white coat rimmed with blue, smirks, a few feet away from the piper. The blond launches out again, straight at Morel. He manages to get a hand on the guy's chest, but doesn't hit strongly. It's more like a love tap, but the blond mutters something quick before darting to the side. It reeks of burnt flesh and singed cotton, making the teen feel queasy. 

Gon rushes in front of his client, clearly damaged but a ways to go from heaven. The air is heavy, like humidity, and sparks float around the room, stinging whatever they can touch. The boy manages to cover his presence as he tries to near the bomber, but he's easily outed by the parting of smoke in the room. Blondie propels himself towards Gon, like a cat, and strikes out a hard kick, enough to throw him off balance. Straight into his throat. It's bruising, the familiar sting of blood rushing in and coughed out. Gon holds a hand out, trademark icicles sharp as daggers summoning. The teen manages to find a white blur headed his way, and jumps far up in time to dodge the bomber's next punch, bound to send him hurdling into the wall. Eyes back at his client, a disc appears on his chest, rapidly descending from 6000.

"Go!" Gon wheezes out, choking on his blood. The floor is already empty except for himself, Morel, and the bomber. The piper obeys, and jams the elevator buttons, quickly closing.

"Joykill." He spits, stopping where Gon used to be. Sure, bomb boy is smart, but not extremely. Gon falls back down, winding a leg up and snapping back down, cracking into the blond's face. He flies from the hit, but not too far. The teen wastes no time, the bomber almost back on his feet already. Ice condenses around Gon's fingers, like claws. In a moment, he's already digging his fingers into the lanky shitbag's cheeks, and drilling straight through. It's messy, it's real fucking messy. 

"You little fucking -hack- shit." The other coughs, oozing red liquid pooling into his mouth and pouring out of his second and third mouths. He's holding his face, but he isn't slowed down. Actually, he's a little quicker, as if rage was his motive. Gon is only a couple of meters away, shaking the blood off of his hand. The bomber's quick, but not as close to Kil's Godspeed. Blondie races back to Gon.

"Little -cough- flower!" Roses appear in both his hands, grabbing Gon. Another explosion rings out, deafening. The icy teen is launched into a wall, dust falling from the ceiling. By now, he's pretty much dead. Flames still eating at both his arms, blood pressing into his tense throat like a hot iron. Blondie's not so fine himself, having taken a little damage from his own attack, but his arms are only burnt at most. Gon's bone is showing, glowing in the smoky, dusty catastrophe, his other arm putting exposed flesh on display. The smoke hurts, pricks his exposed meat, the stench of burnt flesh only magnified. 

Gon prepares his claws again, hoping for this to be the finishing blow. Staggering back to his feet, vomit crawling up his throat, he swallows. It burns, mixing in with the preexisting blood, but he doesn't have time. The bomber's holding his burnt arms, hissing. The teen launches himself back at rose-hands, the ground cracking and throwing up dust and dirt into his smoking wounds. His fingers point inwards, and tunnels through the bomber's throat.

His victim's eyes falter, blurry. Eyes rolling back and twitching. Blood gushes out like a whirlpool, the teen managing to jump away in time, only leaving up to his right elbow bloodied. A clear hole is drilled through bomby's neck, dripping with blood. His neck collapses, the left skin and muscle spared, giving out. The lanky figure sways for a moment, his head falling back and his ragdoll-ish body following suit. The room was a mess. Pool tables aflame, dust sprinkling down.

Furniture was tossed around like toys, almost effortlessly. Gon was kneeling on the floor, holding his drilling arm. Panting, he heard a familiar chime. Cat-boy.

"Gon!" The boy yelled out, spotting his friend in the far back. Killua's eyes only scanned blondie for a moment, gaping holes in the decapitated head. _What the fuck..?_ Killua was a little shocked by how far his kin had gone, but nevermind that. His friend was burning in the back, a soaked hand and reeking of blood and smoke. Blood pooling from the corner of his lip to the floor. He rushed to his friend's side, kneeling beside him and slinging Gon's arm over his shoulders. 

"Can you stand?" Gon only mumbled, but quickly rose to his feet. He was slouching on his friend, even laying. 

Both of them stumbled out of the elevator, infirmary staff rushing to ice boy's aid. Gon was wheezing, harder than ever before. They slung him onto a bed and wheeled into the operating room, Killua only watching his friend be pushed away. Kil was left sitting alone in the waiting room, eerie and quiet. The doors opened, but not the operating's. Out was Pakunoda, having a wrapped up arm as she sustained a little damage from the attack on Morel.

"He'll be alright." Paku just smiled, putting a hand on Kil's head and ruffling his hair. He hoped so.

Gon heard beeping, quiet panic. He heard the clatter of equipment close, and a mask put over his face, anesthesia painfully rushing into his lungs. A sharp pang in his neck, lidocaine rushing into his muscles. He felt woozy, trying to speak out to the blurry faces standing over him. 

"..Loss of blood..."

"..Burnt flesh..."

"...Breathing blood..."

 _Who are these people..? What's happening...?_ Gon's eyes dart around, fading in and out of focus, and finally out. Leaving Gon alone in the dreamy darkness.

A panicked commotion stirred up past those doors, Kil's eyes glued. He'd been sitting there for hours on end, leg bouncing. Only a few floors down, busy chattering ensued.

"Did you hear? They say his heart stopped at one point," "No wayyy, I heard that he was already dead!"

Whispers echoed throughout the 51st floor, the occasional laughter. All guards gathered up like when they first met Gon. Pitou hadn't gotten over his loss just a few months back, so he was the one gossiping the most. Bystanders who had grown close to Gon, like Nobunaga, Leorio, Shalnark, and Killua forced to endure the snickers and giggles. Kil had his head buried in his arms, on the verge of tears and ripping his silver-spun hair out.

" **Shut the fuck up**." Killua growled, casting a hard glare at Pitou. He scoffed in return, shoving past,

"Fucking **fag**." Pitou spat, under his breath but loud enough for only Kil to hear, but another had already caught up. Pitou headed for the elevator, arms crossed. Pressing his floor's button and closing his eyes. **Impact**.

Pitou's head crashed into the elevator wall, the back of his skull shattering like a thin pane of glass, instantly leaking blood. This wasn't the cat boy's doing, but rather the walking piece of eye candy. His porcelain claws wrapped around the shattered mess, bloodlust oozing out like a wound. His face grew closer, nestling in Pitou's neck and inhaling his fear, tongue tracing his own lips.

 _What the fuck? Where did he come from?!_ Pitou's inner voice screamed, coated in panic.

"What do you want, you pervy fucking creep?" His voice shaky, assaulted by the clown eating up his fear.

" _Oh? What I want?_ " He grinned, " _There is no straight answer. I want **more** , and **more**._" Hisoka's long tongue traced up Pitou's neck, tasting more of the intoxicating fear. He lapped at the dripping blood, Pitou still pinned up by the head. He moaned slightly into the other's ear, causing spiders to crawl up his spine.

" _I want **dominance** , **power** ,_" He breathed, eyes heavy, slipping a hand onto Pitou's inner thigh," _But what I want most?_ " He purred, adrenaline rushing in as his voice grew higher. He leant in, whispering.

" _I want to hear you **scream**._"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha this took forever i was looking at jojo memes


	7. Jack of Hearts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A murder happens. Hisoka makes a proposition.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A star near something like this* implicates that there's further meaning and will probably be explained in the end notes :)  
> TW: a lil more gore i guess and homophobic slurs  
> hehe more hisogon next i promise

Pitou's voice rung out in pure agony, an orchestra of hell. The sound, sweet and sticky, the dear clown blanc* in front of him, bathing in the sound and the sickly aroma of pure distress. Head in hand, a jack of hearts* in the other's chest. The card bloodstained, honeyed and gushing. Pitou dared not look down, the harlequin watching, biting his bottom lip. Claws still on the card, slowly dragging down. The cat's flesh ripped with ease to the card like scissors gliding on paper, but Hisoka took his dear time, prolonging both their experiences. They had reached Pitou's floor long ago, yet the cloy man wouldn't give up.

"STOP -hack- PLEA-SE!" Pitou sobbed, writhing in pain. "YOU CAN -cough, sob- HAVE YOUR ZOLD-YCK!" He coughed, grabbing Hisoka's hand and trying to pull the card out. Like a Greek statue, strong and beautiful, he didn't budge. Instead, brows raised with a slight grin,

" _Hm..? The **"fag?"**_ " Hisoka mirrored his spiteful words from earlier. A nearly pitiful expression washed over. " _I have as much interest I do in that boy, as I do with the **dead**._" He sugar coated his words, such hateful speech masked in saccharine tones. " _This isn't about the boy, sweet Neferpitou. Though you are quite close._ " the blanc's voice rung in his head, a lasting impact like tangerine. Hisoka pulled away, hand still pressed against Pitou's leaking head and two fingers on the card.

" _Gon. I'm sure you know him **well**._" A smirk spread across his face, head slighly tilted, expression tainted with loathing and spite. Out of pure subconscious emotion, Hisoka swiped the card down, leaving a running gape from Pitou's chest to the middle of his pelvis. Like a book, his skin opened, revealing a library of organs to toy. Pitou was squeaking, his throat unable to make a sound and choking on his tearful mucus. The ratio of tears to blood was near equal, blood pumping and tears gushing away.

Pitou gushed and spat blood, like a fountain of regret and quickly losing his grasp. This was going to happen eventually. All fates and desires, bound to cry out no matter the odds. Pitou's hands dropped. Weakening with every passing second, dazed eyes searching to meet the cause of his demise's. Arrows. Daggers. Pins. Needles. Narrowing down onto his feeble face as he passed into dark. Hisoka eased his grip, letting the crumpled body shrink and heave into the ground like a plastic bag. The joker only took a moment to admire his work, sloppy.. but well executed. He took his card, brought it up to his dewy, rosy lips, and sensually glided his tongue across. The sweet sugar of spite and bitterness like dandelion tea. Familiar.

Loud buzzing echoed through the room. An occasional beeping accompanied by another. Heavy, woozy eyes like a newborn baby's, lidocaine's sweet goodbye leaving a twisting sting. LEDs lit up the room, no windows in sight. The familiar antiseptic knocking at Gon's senses. He was alone. No commotion past the heavy door parallel to himself. Past the elevator doors, a whole different story. Friends and colleagues bunched around the blood scarred doll slumped against the wall, a dry line of blood all the way down. The scratches on Pitou's body were ravenous, overdone. The others could think of an easy name of suspects, as their fallen friend easily made fights out of anyone who dared cross his path. Gon was an easy name, though he had been obviously put out of commission for reasons already spoken of. Shalnark was quaking, being the second other than the killer to find Pitou. He wasn't close to the cat at all, but a ravaged body is sure to scar.

Days were slow to come by, grieving witnesses huddling in their floors. Pierrot's High was closed for days on end, a shaky staff unable to function without their daily dose of catty remarks. Nobody felt safe. A small ceremony was held hours away from what most of them dubbed home, grieving faces unchanged. Gon, too, felt remorse. Not being able to clear things up with the guy, leaving both with bitter tastes. One more lingering than the other. Gon was left bed-ridden for weeks, as the casino slowly opened back up to business.

For Hisoka, covering his emotions up was light work, being a master of the craft. Only leaking out a mask of a solemn frown, as if he cared about Pitou. Hisoka had done this a million times before. He didn't consider himself an assassin of sorts, but rather just a guy killing for fun. He took his pay, in pleasure of course. Seeing the body like an old receipt, crumpled and forgotten, did wonders. He'd take any pain, just to please himself. Even his own. 

*****

The incident was long forgotten, a fossil of a memory. Nobody dared to speak of it again, or it would lift memories too painful to even pass by.

Now, Gon was in full working condition. Still with a sensitive scars decorating his arms, he was sure to fight again. Gon often made visits to the arenas before making a full recovery, still hell bent on finding more about his colleagues. Today, Illumi fought against Hisoka. This was a show.

Illumi had just thrown a shower of needles, pelting deep into the arena tiles. The other, had smoothly jumped and twisted around, like a graceful ballerina. Hisoka rushed to Illumi, landing a solid punch to his stomach, as Illumi stabbed through the other's hand. Illumi flew back, about to hit the floor face first until he sprung himself away with his arms, and skidded backwards to a stop. Needle boy only grinned a little, looking at his chest. 

"Hisoka, please. I'm _no_ child." Using gyo, Gon knew what he meant. Hisoka connected a string of his Bungee Gum to Illumi while delivering that swift punch. Hisoka only raised a brow, corner of his rosy lips pulled upwards. Snap! Bungee Gum had disconnected from Hisoka's hand, and went flying into Illumi. Rebound. Just like the first punch. As Illumi landed, with a tiny tapping sound, the other had already thrown cards where he would land. They pelted into Illumi, but only shallow, like the depth of a papercut. Hisoka only smirked, both knowing that was enough play fighting.

The needle had clearly pierced straight through Hisoka's hand, but he seemed purely unfazed, grabbing a towel and wiping his forehead. Hisoka was very interesting, peaking Gon's interest to the highest. Hisoka looked up at Gon, sitting in the stands. Without looking, he pulled the needle from his hand, blood dripping out. The illusionist lapped at the blood on the needle, shiny liquid gold trained on Gon's dark chocolate orbs.

Shivers were sent up his spine, light red colored over his face.

Having spent nearly a month out of commission, Gon's skills were certainly dulled down to a strange extent. He hadn't yet explored his full potential, being able to control the moisture around him. For the next few days, Gon would routinely circulate between the gym, and the arenas, carefully studying fighting skill and type.

One late afternoon, Gon was training his overall strength in the gym, hesitant about diving into the pool of endless power that was his nen. Jabbing at the bag in front of himself, and hell bent on ripping it apart. He was just getting into it, then a less-than familiar voice rang out, instantly recognized by the bittersweet-ness that followed each sentence.

"Gon-kun," the peculiar voice purred "let _me_ help."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> clown blanc: the white clown, known to be graceful and in some cases, sad  
> jack of hearts: jack referring to someone of youth, hearts referring to desire


	8. Bubblegum Chapstick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get a lil spicyyy ;) not too spicy tho dw dw

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dubconnnnnn warning

The clock was well past midnight, dangerously stretching into the early morning. Gon had agreed to the previous proposal, though he grew a little confused.

" _..I help you, you help me._." Hisoka's silky voice rang out, smooth as an icy glass of red wine. _Help with what..?_ Hisoka's skills were past flawless, carved and chipped at to perfection. Gon only brought a towel and a water bottle to the arena, lights dimmed but not shut off. Training and exploring through the building wasn't prohibited at night, how convenient. Hisoka was already waiting, and a clement smile graced his lips.

"Gon. Nice to see you didn't skip out." He bats a hand out, signaling for Gon to come closer. "I've already seen your past fights, so I know what you can do _now_ , but let's try and push your limits, _hm?_ " Gon jogs up, and nods.

"Let's start off with a mock-fight. Use the skills you know now, and let's expand on that later. Make sure not to hit me too hard, as I won't, you. Try making use of all your previously learnt skills, concealment, needles, and try the claws." Hisoka walks to the opposite side of the ring, "Let's begin."

Gon's already concealed the moment Hisoka finishes his sentence. Dashing towards his target and readies a light swing, punching out. The other's already dodged, leaning back with incredible flexibility and catching his wrist.

"Tsk, tsk. Amateur hour." Hisoka bends his arm behind his back, flooring him. "Try the needles. No coming head-on." 

They go back to opposite ends, and Hisoka waves a finger at him. He's concealed again, thinking to come at Hisoka's left. He darts to the side, and back at Hisoka, forming needles and jumping up, nearly digging them into the side of his neck, until Hisoka catches them. 

"Mm-mm. Use your eyes." He points to his own with a sharp, black painted claw, "Don't focus entirely on those needles."

Nen rushes to Gon's eyes, finding a string of nen printed on his chest, It goes from him to Hisoka's finger. _Shit!_ "Again." That word seems to repeat constantly through their short time. By the next, both men are panting, at different levels. Gon pats a towel on his forehead, wheezing, while the other man just sweats a small bead. 

"I think.. we've got a good start." Finally, after around twenty nerve-pulling attempts, they were getting closer. Hisoka was more agitated than proud, having wasted long, stretched hours. "One more time, _hm?_ " Hisoka got up again, Gon taking a long swig from his water bottle and rushing back to the arena floor. Hisoka just slightly nods, signaling for Gon to make the first move.

He conceals himself, running to his back as Hisoka had taught him the silent gait. He's sure to use gyo now, no strings attached from himself to the other. With one heavy movement of his arm, he condenses the moisture around the two heated fighters, and throws a pillar of ice up below Hisoka's feet. This could be easily turned into a spike, with less effort even, but the goal isn't to kill. _Ah~ There you are._ Hisoka's in the air still, and lashes out a wave of cards. Gon knows to read through, jumping above and running up the slanted pillar. Hisoka lands silently, Gon running after. He's fast. A moment is silent, until the magician hears a small whoosh, heading straight for him. The dense, cold moisture radiating off of Gon gives himself away.

Hisoka catches him flying in, by the collar of his tee, and slams him into the ground. The wind is instantly knocked out of him, leaving him heaving for air. 

"Good work." Hisoka beams, sending a warm wave through Gon's body. The pinned down boy can only giggle in response. Hisoka is kneeling next to him, holding by the collar. In a split second, Gon kicks out and knocks Hisoka off balance, rolling over and on top of him. He's sitting on Hisoka's waist, one hand pinning his wrist down while another's armed with claws, high up and set to dig into his throat like from before.

" _Good boy.~_ " Hisoka purrs, licking his top lip. Gon's distracted, the one below him vaguely turned on. Crimson wipes over Gon's face, extremely flustered. Hisoka can't control himself any longer.

He grabs Gon's collar, and raises himself up a little, pulling their lips together. The tension is heavy, electricity passing between their lips so violently smashed together. Hisoka slips a tongue between Gon's lips and toys around with his before pulling back,

" _Mmh.. Gon-kun, you taste so good..~ **♥️**_ " He moans, before biting at Gon's lip and eating back at Gon. The teen's ecstatic, and pushes back, Hisoka's head hitting the cold marble floor. The pierrot's lips curl upwards, the pain an unexpected, but stimulating sensation. Their tongues intertwined, moaning into each other's mouths. Every time Gon leans into the kiss more, their numbers rub against each other, sending surging waves through Gon's body. Hisoka glides his slender claws up Gon's warm chest, scratching ever so slightly, but pushes Gon back when he reaches his shoulders.

" _Lesson one; always leave them wanting more._ " Hisoka devilishly smirks, sitting up. Gon felt exhilarated, panting lightly after his exchange. His face is the tint of a rose, redness screaming all the way up to his ears, and he hurriedly gets off of Hisoka. "That seems like enough for today. Wouldn't you agree?~" He teases after Gon, who's already rushing off. His heart beating through his chest, screaming into his towel. _Adorable_.

 _There's **no** way I just did that... Aunt Mito says a boy and another boy aren't supposed to be together.._ Gon holds his head in his hands, _But.. It felt different.. Good._ Gon's had his share of kisses and pecks from past lovers, but they never sated him the way Hisoka's lips did. He could still taste the bubblegum chapstick from Hisoka's lips, the flavor lingering as a memory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun fact: i've never had a kiss so i can't properly describe what its like sorry sorry


	9. Armed and Unarmed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gon fights again with Hisoka, and kills Sadaso later on. i also make dumb puns and jokes sorry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Messaging: on the phone will go like this  
> ( [name] : [message] )  
> TW; blood, you already know. suffocation!

Gon evades Hisoka the rest of the day, taking detours, loops, and hiding. Luckily, he isn't assigned a job that night, allowing him to hide in his room all night. Something pops up on his phone. It's from Kil.

 **Killua** : hey dipshit ru alive  
**Gon** : sadly yes   
**Killua** : you been hiding in there all day  
**Killua** : smt wrong???  
**Gon:** can i plz tell u in person  
**Killua:** kk omw dont die  
**Gon:** ill try not to

And moments later, an aggressive knock rings out. 

"Hey idiot," Kil invites himself in and onto the couch as Gon opens the door, "Talk words to me." Gon joins him on the couch, and takes a heavy breath.

"Is... liking another guy bad?" Kil's brows scrunch,

"I mean, I don't really give a shit. Love who you love, it's cool," Killua shrugs, "Gon, what're you trying to say..?"

Gon's hugging his knees, looking away from his friend. " _I kissed a guy this morning._ " He peeps out, quiet as a mouse. His friend explodes.

"OH MY GOD GON WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME EARLIER?!" He crawls closer to Gon and grabs his shoulders, shaking him around like a baby with a rattle, clearly excited about his friend. He pauses, smile dropping. " _Please don't tell me if it's Illumi or Hisoka.._ " He squeaks, Gon balling up and trying to avoid eye contact like a guilty dog. Kil's arms drop from his shoulders to his friend's face, squishing.

"Did he hurt you?! Did me make you do it?! Are you okay?! BE RIGHT BACK I'M GOING TO BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF HI-" Gon holds Killua's wrists. "No, Hisoka didn't really hurt me. He.. kinda did make me I guess? But I liked it too, so I kissed him back. I'm fine, just a little.." Gon looks away again, "Embarrassed, I guess. _I don't really want to see him right now._ " He lets go of Kil's wrists and puts them back up on his face.

"Oh." He mumbled, letting his arms drop. _How could Gon like that freak?! Any fucking guy on the planet and it had to be **him**?! I have to support him, though. It's his choice. _Kil looks back at Gon, head buried in his arms.

"Oi, Gon," He looks up, "It's true that I'm a little disappointed, but I have to trust you. I've only known you for a couple of months, but you've had great judgement." Gon's shoulders drop, relieved. "Buuuut, I'm still not gonna trust Hisoka. If I see him doing **anything** to hurt you, I'll fuck him up. For your sake." He leans in, wrapping his arms around his friend. 

Gon's phone buzzes.

 **Hisoka:** Training. 6am. Don't be late.

He looks from over his friend's embrace, he couldn't get out of this.

Hisoka had been listening in on their conversation through the vents, standing by the glass wall and looking out to Yorknew City and smoking a cigar. Guilt pined like a cat scratching at a door.

Gon drags his feet to the arena, the rest of his body pulling back and begging him not to go. As expected, Hisoka's there. Checking his nails before scanning Gon's exhausted expression. Hisoka's wearing his usual cargo-looking pants and a tight tank top, army boots to go with.

"Good. Now, taking off from last time," Gon braces himself for the incoming embarrassment, "I was thinking to speed up. Make it seem like a real fight. Feel free to hit, as I will do the same. Start whenever you're ready." Hisoka's voice was flat, deprived of the sugary sting it constantly carried. _Let's just get this over with._

Instead of concealing himself right off the bat, Gon pounded the tile with a stomp, bringing a pillar of ice to shoot him up, then concealing himself. This gave less of a hint for where he'd appear next. Instead of jumping straight down, he summoned a rain of needles, sending them flying down. Hisoka soon realized this, blocking and breaking them as they shot down. The teen then jumped down, after sending the last wave, and brought a kick to Hisoka's stomach. Blocked. Grabbed by the collar and pinned down once again, disarming Gon of his cloak. He immediately let go, standing back up. 

"Again. No concealing." The ice pillar had evaporated back into the air, giving a clean slate to restart. "Go." 

Gon quickly arms himself with long blades, scythe-like with short handles, tip of the blade to his elbow. Hisoka's the first to pounce, having a plethora of cards at his disposal. He slashes air, Gon already dashing away. The arena's quite sizable, each ring being about 50x50 meters. Hisoka doesn't stop. Watching Gon flash corner to corner. He's improved a lot, perhaps thinking on a whim. The teen's afterimage flashes upwards, and isn't seen further. Leaving Hisoka to stop and listen.

Nothing. He sends a pack of cards flying in a whirlwind, and Gon's arm is quickly sliced through. Blood spurts out, in a delicate pattern on the floor. It stings, hard. Gon comes plummeting down, blades ready to cut through Hisoka, he finally hears, and breaks away. The other is huffing, holding a bloody arm. The fight is still on. Gon freezes the blood, making it run cold and harden into a clot. _Clever._ While he's at it, he freezes his nerves and soothes the stinging. _Damn it.. I could really use my cloak right now.._

Instead of giving in to his temptation, he condenses the moisture in the air, to needles. They face Hisoka, and in a matter of moments, they come flying. It's hard to fight them off, with Gon reusing the broken ones. A few stab into his back, one in his thigh. Gon circles back, now behind Hisoka. He eases on the needles, focusing his nen onto his blades. _The needles have gotten slower._ Gon closes in, a swift push-kick to Hisoka's back. He's sent flying, but steady on his feet, flipping around with a handspring to face Gon.

Both fighters are tired. Hisoka strikes, the marble plate shattering to his launch. Cards are wedged between his fingers, acting like sharp claws to lash with. Gon has little time before Hisoka makes impact, having to cross both arms in defense. They end up face to face, only a foot apart. Sparks start flying, Hisoka's honed cards screeching against Gon's whetted blades. _Bungee Gum!_

Gon's wrists bruise on impact, coming together like magnets. Hisoka's Bungee Gum holding his wrists together, twisting them behind Gon's back. The match isn't over just yet. Gon launches himself up with a pillar, Hisoka following suit and dashing up the side. He hurls a few cards to his back, able to dodge the majority after landing back on the ground. One pelted into his shoulder blade.

Having learnt how to deal with wounds, he carefully freezes the nerves around, following suit. He's distracted, a big mistake. Hisoka's fist slams into the side of Gon's face, sending him flying and crashing into the stands. 

"Good enough for today." Hisoka winds his arm, getting rid of the soreness. Gon is wrecked, dazed, even. He lies in the stands for a moment, before slowly getting up. The sight of Gon destroyed and broken sends a strange weight settling onto Hisoka's shoulders, a feeling completely alien to him.

"We're not going to practice anymore? That was only two rounds!" Gon argues, 

"I said it's **good enough**." Hisoka presses, heading to the showers.

"...Did I do anything wrong?" 

Gon receives nothing but a cold look cast over Hisoka's shoulder, and is left alone in the arena ring, desolate and destroyed.

Hisoka makes no intent of interacting with Gon for the rest of the day, maybe locking eyes for split seconds, but nothing is really communicated. Noon draws close, gates to _'The Pierrot's High'_ opening and valuable faces flooding in. For tonight, Gon's assignment is a rather stout woman. She covers herself entirely and carries a flute, told to be one of Kurapika's allies. Melody. She doesn't drink, she surveys. She hovers between the lower floors, hoping to catch wind of rumor to the rest of the Kurta clan's eyes. She can't pick anything noteworthy, only chatter of deals, laughter, and offerings of drugs. However, she does take note of Gon's heartbeat.

It's faster than the rest, and Melody's heard it thousands of times before. Emotional stress. Something's bothering him. Melody's leaps and bounds away from Gon's power level, careful to make not even her guard tick off. She sits and listens to chatter for hours on end, until her detector goes off. A man by the name Tserriednich, a video on the dark web. Nothing else is revealed, Melody set to leave. She stops in her tracks, unable to move and struggling to keep a breath. 

She can hear elevated beats, not only Gon's this time. A mask-like face peeks through the crowd, holding a fist in front of himself. He squeezes tighter. Melody can't inhale or exhale, leaving her trapped in her own air. A small chuckle arises, perking up both Melody and Gon's ears. The teen is completely done, the earlier fights with Hisoka draining the shit out of him. Gon slips through the crowd surrounding the sound, and pinpoints a man with crazed, slitted eyes. Slanting, but in no way forgiving. Melody's on the edge of her breath, Gon finally reaching the man and kicking his neck in. 

The sudden rise in violence causes mild panic, few clients leaving the floor. With one swift wave up, two pillars emerge from the ceiling and floor, crushing the mask-faced man and spitting blood. They quickly evaporate, Gon focusing his nen to alter the moisture from his blood, and resulting in a red tint to the claws Gon was familiar with. _Let's just make this quick._ Mask boy was already on his knees, coughing blood and struggling to breathe. Too easy. Then, a force had punted his whole body, Gon flying into the ground.

 _Shit! Gyo!_ A hand had appeared over his head, back against the floor. Great. Gon concealed himself, rolling away from where he had been hit. Blood filled his mouth, almost watering out. He forced the blood inside him to clot and patch up, stopping himself from bleeding. Back to the man at _hand_ , he seemed defenseless without his nen. A good start. He circled around, noticing a limp left sleeve. Let's make him parallel.

Gon had sprung out, grabbing the man's arm and pushing against his own body. He twisted, pleased at the sound of a crack. He twisted again. Harder. Another crack, and maybe even an entire dislocated arm. One final tug. His arm broke loose, flying off in a show of blood. The sadistic man already faint, seemed queasy at the sight of blood. Screams rung out around the room, clients pushing each other out at the mere sight of a little blood.

Mask boy is snapped out of his daze, fist swinging at Gon. He's ranged, can't go very far. Gon finds a strange, white glow, another nen fist appearing. He's _armed_. It races for Gon, catching hold. It's strange, being inside a fist of nen. Tight, even comforting at most. Gon draws in a long breath, or at least tries to. The same thing Melody experienced, suffocating. Two can play at that game. 

Gon draws the water away from slit-eyes' area, immediately taking effect. The air is dry, rasping. CD-eyes is coughing, but unrelenting. Until he finally spits out more blood, dripping from his mouth. The fists disappear, allowing Gon to take a much-needed breath. If he can draw out the water from the air, perhaps he can do it with this guy. The idea immediately takes effect, Gon tugging out the moisture from the other. It doesn't take much, for the man's pasty skin to wrinkle out. Time to go deeper. 

He tugs at blood, even stomach acid pooling out. It's pungent, vomit-inducing. The mix of blood and stomach acids in the open air, wafting around like an airborne disease. Mister hand man is nothing but a husk, now. Like a Nature Valley granola bar, he crumbles to dust. 

The loss of oxygen is a big deal for Gon, himself. He's dizzy, his chest hurting and his head airy. It doesn't take much for him to submit, as well. Falling down like an old body. He's well deserving of a nap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> slowly realizing that gon is basically a waterbender lmao oops  
> i kinda made a few dumb references in the last few sentences lol sorry  
> i feel like shit but i had fun  
> this is probably like, the longest chapter ugh


	10. Vodka and Emotion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Both Hisoka and Gon have meaningful conversations.

Gon doesn't give in. His will and determination heaving him forth, back to his room. The damage sustained today is only minimal, and it takes, at most, three minutes for his breathing to settle down into a regular pace. Though his chest, doesn't give up. It's tight, almost suffocating. Gon's usually keen about why he hurts, but this leaves him with a blank mind. Only a little bruised and confused, he tucks himself in, breath evening out.

Gon feels worse than the last time he had to put up a fight, though he didn't hurt physically, this was a mental thing. It was early, almost 7 in the morning. Maybe a swim would tame the migraine eating at his head. The pool was empty, gentle bubbling of the hot tub filling the room. Gon lowered himself into the tub, instantly dropping his tense shoulders to the warm water. A chime of the elevator, someone else was here.

"Yooo!" Nobunaga waved an excessive hand, a towel slung over his shoulder. He wore dumb duck trunks, and to be completely transparent, he looked like an idiot. He loped to Gon, throwing his towel on a lounge chair and hopped into the bigger pool. He treaded to Gon's corner resting his arms and head on the ledge.

"So whatsuppppppp?" Grinning at Gon with a toothy smile. The other only sat there. "Ohhhhhh.... What happened? Sick? Hurt? Or.." He looked around quickly, whispering loudly, " _Girl problems?_ "

The teen only furrowed his brows at Nobu, "Somewhat." He hugged his legs, pouting.

"Ahh, yeah I get it. That's rough, buddy." His voice growing sympathetic. "What happened?"

"Well.. _she_ _'s_ angry at me. I don't know why. We were just-" He contemplated his words, "Hanging out when she, well, started getting cold. She even glared at me." Gon wasn't out about his personal life, keeping himself as low profiled as possible, following the Pitou incident.

"Daaaamnnnn.. Like outta nowhere?" Gon nods. "Were ya -cough- close?" He wiggles his eyebrows, simpering.

"I.. Don't know. We only started kind-of talking this week, and she, well, kissed me first. The next time we saw each other, she started being stiff."

"It's probably a-" He quickly changed his voice to a mumble, " _Lady thing._ " 

"Doubt it." If only he knew.

"Just.. Maybe try and do something fun with her? Yano? Like watch a movie or something. If she doesn't budge, maybe do something nice for her? I dunno. Yaboi aro so I can't really help that much." He shrugs, swimming out. "Good luck little man! Go get it!" He pumps a fist into the air.

A lanky bean pole polishes a shot glass, chary to the one in front of him, decorated with empty glasses. Hisoka wasn't much of a drunkard, but _damn_ was it good at doing it's job. His hair was down, rather slumped in front of his face like a ragdoll. Leorio was dealt a bad hand, heaving the weight of a pierrot, high on alcohol, drooping over his bar. Hisoka reached out, the other stiffening in a manner of fear. _This is it. He's going to rip my heart out and stuff it down my throat. Goodbye, cruel world._ Hisoka only sighs, withdrawing his hand and looking away.

The notorious clown Leorio once sort-of-knew reduced to a somber mess.

"Something up?" Leorio's still in a cold sweat, the one before him still able to rip his spine out with ease. Hisoka scoffs, looking him up and down.

"Why should I tell _you?_ " He's right. He's about to apologize as the one in front breaks character, being the chatty type of drunk. By that, I mean Hisoka talking to someone out of his circle.

He draws in a breath. "I'm-- _confused_. I saw someone, not close to me, hurt. It felt.. **suffocating**." He spat, loathing the word, "Here." He holds his chest, a little to his left.

 _Holy shit.._ Leorio's stumped. _This guy has feelings? Let alone, pain_?He's panicking on the inside, _I've never read any books on clown therapy, the hell do I do?!_

"They _hurt_ me, they made me feel _pain_." Hisoka tensed, a throb of hatred in his voice. "I let someone close, and they wound me?" 

_..Is this guy dumb?_ Everyone knows about Hisoka's turn ons. His coworkers have seen it as he fights. He loses a limb, a stare of lust and fiery desire. He's donutted, a small moan escaping, followed by a glare that can only scream _"More!"_

Leorio sharply inhaled, "They didn't hurt you." Hisoka raises his brows, "... _How so?_ " Leorio responds in a quiet, almost choking voice,

"You're hurting _yourself_." The other only stares, nodding slightly and signaling for Leorio to continue.

"You care for them," Hisoka scoffs, "your emotions. I'm sure you wouldn't care if I hurt, but this person you talk about? They're _special,_ reasons I can't say for you." The other's eyes narrow, but the rest of his face remains stoic. "Another?" Leorio holds up an empty glass, Hisoka shaking his head once, getting up.

Maybe it's the alcohol talking, or maybe he's still erratic and irritated, but Hisoka turns his head around, an eye on Leorio.

"Thank you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think we all need a homeguy like nobu.  
> i dunno about you, but i feel heavy from writing that last part. leo spittin fax  
> -  
> also i have an idea for another hisogon fic, charms n stuff. imma do that right after i finish this.


	11. Cherry Gloss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hisoka fights!! Kind of!! A lil more steamy content, but more vanilla.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW; blood (??)  
> oh yes dubcon too

Tonight, Hisoka finds his client to be a white haired woman. Her eyes remain closed, holding a dark wooden cane, named Komugi. Renowned as a treasured gungi player, best in the world. You can bet what she's here to do. She requests for Meruem to come down, both sitting on pillows and taking turn.

The two seem to be enjoying their time, Meruem's static face melted by Komugi's warmth. Hisoka only stands to the side, bored out of his mind. The only things bothering him at the moment, are the woman's eyes. Blind, is she not? Yet her glass like eyes remain stared down. 

A rain of red shows out, a scream not far behind. Crimson stained a nearbly wall, others attempting to run away but easily decapitated by a glistening wing. A blond, magenta tinted man, princely attire gracing his slim body. Two antennae adorned his pale hair, wings following and slashing head by head. They glistened, something like glitter radiating off of them. He didn't seem as strong as Meruem, who had built in armor, hard as diamond.

His colleague protected the woman with his body, blood raining left and right. The three were alone, only five or six bystanders managing to escape. _No big deal. They're not who I'm after._ The prince pondered, eyes on Meruem's back splashed with blood, appearing brown. Hisoka was the first to fight, bounding off of a nearby wall and wedging a card into the prince's neck, halfway in before getting pelted into the wall, the blond shrugging him off. Hisoka has a pipe in the wall impaling his left forearm, and right shoulder. His eyes move to Meruem, _What the hell is he doing?!_

Meruem gets up, dashing towards butterfly boy in a flash of light. His tail drills into the other's shoulder, he's _fast_. At least he hits the other, but the purple prince splits apart, multiplying into dozens of copies, tiny. Meruem kicks into a cluster, a couple already splatting against the wall in blue. Hisoka throws a tornado of cards, hitting a few less than Meruem, but still getting a good hit. The fresh prince realizes he's in trouble. He soon gathers into one, a cocoon forming quickly around him. Meruem jabs his tail, making a little less than a dent. Sparks fly out, almost metal against metal. He doesn't stop, continuously lashing.

Prince boy is definitely strong, as Meruem's "fights" are usually just one swipe of the tail. He's making more progress than Hisoka, each trying to lash and break the cocoon. Komugi still whimpers in the corner, the green menace occasionally peeking over his shoulder. The cocoon softens, transforming into web-like strings. It flies into microscopic bits, Meruem lashing out again. Something dark whips out, in the blind woman's direction. Meruem barely catches it's wings, even tearing a bit. This isn't the prince they saw earlier.

A wicked grin is plastered on it's face, big black sclera eyes wide and staring at the two. It doesn't have limbs, rather blades in it's place. It's decorated in black armor, shining like obsidian. Meruem tugs the insect back, kneeing hard in the neck. The armor shatters, but the beetle boy's skin is left untouched, Meruem delivering another solid hit. He misses, hitting into the stomach as the prince's wings disintegrate. He's balancing high on the wall, eyes pinned on Komugi like moths to a light. Another launch at the girl.

Hisoka slices an eye open, armed with three more cards. Blue blood leaks, as if crying. The prince is unfazed, still heading towards Komugi. Meruem catches him by the neck, slamming him into the ground and throwing an arm back, before flying forwards into the beetle's chest. A scream runs out, otherworldly. Coming from the 9th circle of hell. Euphoria surges through the bystanding magician, the sight and sound saccharine.

Blood glides into the hair, nearly fountain-like, dramatic and arresting. Meruem dug a fist right into the pest, a hollow hole clear and through. It's still. Cold. Lifeless within moments. In less than a second, Meruem is back to Komugi's side, consoling her as she quakes from the sound. Hisoka's arms are still tainted with his own blood, he only sighs. _This is going to scar._

The next morning's training is still on, Gon finally early. He sits on the side of the ring, constantly checking his phone. Nothing. Heavy doors slam, Hisoka striding in. His shoulder and arm throb, _badly_ , but he's already a master at hiding his pain. Texture Surprise is already wrapped around, making the wounded illusionist unscathed to the eye. He's wearing black shorts and a red crop top, the usual suits on fronts and backs. Gon feels awfully unfashionable next to him, but that won't matter in a moment.

"Hisoka!" Gon pops to his feet, heading towards the clown. "You're late!"

"I apologize, I had- _things_ to take care of." Daily chores were a little more difficult now, given the strain of his muscles. To Gon, he sounded cheerier, or normal, to say the least.

"That's fine, just hurry up! I wanna try something out." Gon's hopping foot to foot, hyped. Hisoka joins him on the arena floor,

"Begin!"

Both Gon and Hisoka launch at eachother, the teen arming himself with the classic blades used in their first couple of matches. He slashes at air, Hisoka ducking down and sweeping at Gon's legs. Gon brings up a pillar, both uppercutting Hisoka and propelling him to the other side landing safely. Hisoka flies back, but catches himself and sliding back on both feet. Gon's back is against the wall, and uses his surroundings to his advantage.

He jumps up, and kicks off of the wall, hurdling towards Hisoka with jaw-dropping speed. Seeing Gon fly at him, he's about to jump up, until he can't. His legs are rooted to the ground, restricting and numbing. Ice wraps around his ankles, Gon only inches away, holding out a near flaming fist. Time stops, Gon pausing in the air and sending a strong gust of wind to fly out instead.

"Gotcha." He smirks, booping Hisoka and removing the ice. The magician's surprised, almost stunned. His brows raised and eyes still a little widened. "Come on! I have a few more things."

"Oh? Alright." Both are back to opposite sides of the arena. "Start."

The ground freezes, a layer of ice on top. _Cute._ Gon summons his scythe blades, essentially skating. _Two can play at that game._ Hisoka glides over, graceful like a coryphee. That's one thing to show. The next, an icicle shatters near Hisoka. They're rapidly forming on the ceiling, _Sneaky._ Gon drops a bladed arm to the ice, pivoting. Having spent the past nights embedding small, accessible blades in the heels of his shoe, he's spinning in circles. Carving a ring out of the ice, he wedges it out and into the air, before kicking it in Hisoka's direction. 

He dodges, easily. This is child's play. He does the same, swiping a card before flicking it up, hitting it at the other. Gon ducks, the ice slamming and shattering behind him. Enough play. Hisoka rams a heel into the ice, cracking. Another, and it completely breaks. He takes two slivers, and charges towards the kid. Their blades clash, a shriek crying out from the impact. Hisoka sharply kicks into Gon's side, breaking the tension and giving the him time to close in.

Gon's already abandoned the blades, going for a claw approach. Quick and steady, Gon jumps up, slashing the side of Hisoka's face with his boot blade. Thankfully, it isn't too deep and they can continue. Gon backs up, but Hisoka chases after.

He's instantly rooted, the tactic from earlier. Gon launches himself with a pillar, rocketing up and towards Hisoka. He drops down, like a missile, winding up a punch. He closes in, within range, but doesn't hit Hisoka. He's either floating, or time slows down. Either way, Gon is way too close.

He pecks Hisoka on the lips, feet returning to the ground. He's surprised, surely, but now riled up.

"Now we're even." He grins, crossing his arms. 

"Not quite." He smiles, "Rubber stiffens to the cold, I hope you realize." Gon can't turn away, instead he's brought flying closer. Into Hisoka.

"Since when-?!" Their lips lock once again, this time for real. The roots evaporate, now allowing Hisoka to move freely. He's playing dirty. 

Their lips don't quite part, instead slamming into a wall. Hisoka's pinning Gon to the wall, pulling Gon's collar down and kissing at his neck. He bites, a whimper coming out of his victim. Hisoka builds back up, licking from Gon's collarbone to the corner of his lips. Their lips seal once again, and Hisoka bites at his tongue. The teen's too caught up in the moment, digging up the strength and courage to push back once again. 

He hungrily pushes forth, moaning ever so slightly. Hisoka's having the time of his life, as Gon runs a hand down his chest, and lower. Gon makes sure to eat every single bit of Hisoka's lip gloss, an exciting taste of red cherries and wine. His fingers run over Hisoka's unit, the man moaning just a little more. Gon pulls back, still rubbing Hisoka and now planting kisses on his jawline. He draws back, a thin line of saliva trailing. His hand slows to a stop.

" _Always leave them wanting more._ " Gon copies, giggling.

 _"_ _Oh Gon-kun~_ " He sings, " _We're not finished juuust yet._ "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oooh i wonder what'll happen next chap!!


	12. Fire in the Arena

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get veryy steamy. Gon feels wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut! Time!  
> (also a lil fluff n cuddles)

Hisoka drives in, back to Gon. A knee pressing in, painful, but also pleasing. He bites Gon's soft lip, _hard._ Blood seeps out, the teen whining, but not pulling back. Gon's flipped over, back to Hisoka, bent at an angle. He feels his shorts being pulled down along with his boxers,

"Hisoka!" He lets out, shocked. He turns his head around, Hisoka's smiling down at the sight of Gon's soft ass in the cold air. He hears cloth fall, something warm pressed up against his entrance, sending shivers up his spine.

"This is only our second kiss! You're not supposed to-" Hisoka glares down, amber eyes strking.

" _Says **who**? _" He hisses,

 _Shit, he's right._ Plus, they're both already caught up in the moment. It's definitely strange to admit, but being the bottom doesn't feel as bad as he imagined. He's certainly had his share of sex, but it was a whole other experience being the one bent over.

"Wait, we don't have lub-!" The other had already pushed in, hard painful friction oozed through both bodies, stimulating to one. _Fuck.. It hurts so bad... But I can't ask him to stop now._ Hisoka's rocking his hips slightly, precum leaking out. It's easier now, gliding in and out. It feels strange, awkward, even. Undoubtedly his first time taking it up the ass, but it isn't what he expected. Hisoka's getting faster, the awkwardness easing out. He brings a hand to Gon's ass, slapping _hard_. His hips sway, and Hisoka's lashes flutter.

" _Good boy.~_ "

Suddenly, it doesn't bad anymore, and a boner peeks up. He takes it, stroking. It's liquefying, his vision blurring slightly. Hisoka can see Gon enjoying himself, the sight making him erratic. Faster. His hips rock, in tune to Gon's swaying hips. The sound of skin against skin echoes through the arena, and who knows, someone could be watching. Adrenaline runs through Hisoka's blood at the thought, someone watching him take Gon in the open arena. The teen's panting, he can't take much more. 

Hisoka's much more experienced, but the sound of Gon's panting is enough. He's wanted Gon for so long, excruciating. But finally, he has him, moaning and mewing in pleasure to Hisoka's cock running back and forth inside of him. Hisoka claws at Gon, slipping under his shirt and running his sharp, scarlet nails down his back, leaving soft pink marks. The panting increases, Gon on the edge. The panting suddenly stops, followed by a long, rapturous moan. Gon's mind melts, fireworks going off behind his eyes as they roll back. His cum splatters, dripping. The melody of Gon's submission is hypnotizing, making Hisoka speed up. Gon can feel _it_ pulsate.

"Wait- inside?!" He doesn't get a verbal response, but a surging flood inside of his ass. He can barely stand, the throb of the earlier friction and Hisoka's cock digging right through him. The other finally pulls out, beaming at the sight of the disheveled teen, shaking. Hisoka turns him over, back now against the wall. He bends down, taking Gon's base and licking up the remains, staring up right at him. He covers his mouth, looking away. He's embarrassed, almost ashamed.

Gon peeks down, Hisoka's long tongue swimming in the licked up semen, before swallowing it whole. Hisoka pulls his pants back up, doing his own too. He brings Gon in for an embrace, inhaling the riveting scent of Gon's ex-arousal. 

" _Such a good boy._ " He strokes Gon's head, running a hand through his hair. The scent of warm, soft cotton candy fills his lungs, instantly calming him down. "We're finished for today, go rest up. I'm _sure_ you need it." He pulls back, leaving Gon with a peck on his forehead before exiting the room. Hisoka's cum is still tight in his ass, almost leaking, and he looks at the spilt semen on the floor. _I'm going to have to clean that up._

Gon enjoys his shower, warm water gracing each inch of his soiled body. He feels guilty, dirty, he feels like a slut. Even though it was sweet and short, even though both willingly participated, something feels wrong. 

Gon lays in bed, his ass sore. It's still early in the morning, but he decides to text his long-run friend. 

**Gon:** ru awake  
 **Killua:** ya do u need smt  
 **Gon:** can we talk ?  
 **Killua:** k give me a sec

A familiar, quick knock rings out, Gon answers. Kil's there, looking like he just woke up with messy bed hair and slippers on. He goes in and plops onto Gon's couch,

"Soo what's up?" 

"You're.. not gonna like it." Killua's face hardens,

" _ **No**_ **....** " Gon looks away, lips pursing. "You _slept_ with that fucking clown?!" Kil's brows are pushed together, forming a hard stare.

"N-Not really.. It just- happened like.. maybe an hour ago?" Killua's hair stands up, a twisted expression,

"Did he force you?! Are you hurt?" His motherly instincts to haywire, tough hands gripped on Gon's shoulders.

"I'm fine, Kil. Just-.. confused." Gon looks back at his friend, frustrated but controlled. "Something just felt wrong, it didn't feel," He stops, trying to find a good word, "genuine. Heartfelt? I don't know." The cat boy's confused to a purely visible extent.

"What..? What do you mean?"

"It.. felt like he was just playing with me, like that wasn't _him,_ only his instincts. Like he was **using** me." Gon's voice breaks, tears appearing around his eyes. He curls up, Killua closing in and hugging tightly. He can't find good words to comfort his friend, and it feels right not to. They just sit, tightly hugging each other while Gon's tears melt into Kil's shirt.

Killua lets go, heading to the kitchen and grabbing a glass of water and a cold, wet cloth for his friend.

"Drink." He holds the glass out, Gon sniffling and sipping slowly. Kil brings the cloth up to Gon's eyes, pressing the tears and holding them on Gon's eyes. The redness goes away. Killua has a lot of experience, growing up in a family with tons of siblings, especially Alluka and Nanika. Gon's hair is slumped over his eyes, Killua reaching out and tucking it back and behind his ears. He can't believe he's about to say this,

"I'm sure he wasn't. I mean, using you." Lies. Killua's been tangled up with Hisoka before, but never as far as kissing or even fucking. _He'll use you up, then **destroy** you. But, it'll be different. I'll_ _be there for you._ Kil runs a hand through Gon's tangled hair, closing in for another cuddle. Gon's breathing smooths out, 

"Thanks, Kil."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's kinda weird, writing fights and gore is funner than smut  
> ehhnyways i still hope you enjoyed haha

**Author's Note:**

> I know the beginning is a lil dull, just trust me when i say it gets better hjdfgfd


End file.
